


on an inevitable collision course

by sunsetdawn20



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24024055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetdawn20/pseuds/sunsetdawn20
Summary: Seven years after he faked his death House is back as a patient and Chase is furious. (No character death)
Relationships: Robert Chase/Greg House
Comments: 9
Kudos: 113
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2015, Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	on an inevitable collision course

**Author's Note:**

> Comment_fic fill. To (hopefully) bring some joy to the recipients my challenge to myself is to fill one prompt each day from the same day five years ago. Today's prompt is: "House M.D. any. in the emergency room." from May 5 2015
> 
> Please excuse all the handwavy vagueness of everything medical.

** on an inevitable collision course **

His pager goes off at 5pm in the afternoon and Chase leans back in his chair with a groan. A case is always welcome to keep him from the silence of his flat but it’s been a long week with too many people wanting too much of him and his patience is wearing even thinner than normal. For a second he considers ignoring the message from Park and going home but then he just sighs and makes his way to the ER. He’s taken on a lot of House’s mannerisms out of sheer pathetic nostalgia over the past years but distrusting his team is not one of them. He knows they wouldn’t call him if the case wasn’t worth his attention. 

He’s already on the corridor leading to the ER when Foreman comes in the opposite direction and in his very official head of the hospital kind of voice that Chase still can’t bring himself to take seriously says:

“Chase, good you’re here. I need you in my office to talk about your clinic hours next month.”

Chase refrains from rolling his eyes simply because Foreman expects it from him. He’s not nearly as bad with his clinic hours as House used to be and when he does it he’s mostly even professional about it, and some days he wonders if Foreman has bouts of nostalgia too that make him act out these games they witnessed so often when they first started here.

“Let’s pretend I agreed to talk about them some other time,” he says. “Besides, I’ve got a potential patient in the ER.”

“No you don’t,” Foreman says with a shit-eating grin. “I asked Park to page you so you wouldn’t avoid me. You’ve been hiding again.”

Chase narrows his eyes. There’s something strange about the way Foreman holds his shoulders. “Why are you lying?” Chase asks.

Foreman raises an eyebrow. “You’ve known me for 15 years. I’d be pretty stupid if I tried to lie to you. Also no reason I should, I own your ass, so come on.”

He turns away, as if expecting Chase to follow but stops when Chase says: 

“Exactly. So you’d have to be either dumb or desperate to try. And as much as it pains me to admit you’re not dumb. So why don’t you want me to go in there?”

Foreman laughs in a way that’s supposed to be amused but comes off as annoyed. “You’re getting exactly as paranoid as House was.”

A cold shiver runs down Chase’s spine and his eyes go wide. Foreman freezes when he sees the change in him and when he starts towards the ER, Foreman follows.

“Fuck. Chase, wait.”

But Chase pays no attention to him. Just marches straight towards the bed where he sees Park and the new guy Chase hasn’t learned the name of yet and probably won’t keep around long enough to do. He’s not sure how but somehow he knows exactly what he’s going to see before he even gets there.

He’s thinner than Chase remembers, worn out, but still undeniably House – arguing with Park, being a nuisance even as he has obvious trouble breathing and is in considerable pain. Chase stops dead by the bed and all he can do is stare. Faintly he’s aware of Foreman saying something about House having been treated in three other hospitals already and he starts listing symptoms but Chase pays no attention to him. House’s pale, inquisitive eyes are on him, and Chase knows for sure some glib joke is going to be thrown at his head in a moment. So before House has a chance to speak, he says:

“No.”

New Guy is about to say something but Chase stops him with a glare. Park doesn’t even try because somewhere in the past 7 years she learned to pick her moments and Chase knows he will have to listen to all her opinions very soon.

“Did you know about this?” he turns on Foreman, who straightens his back like he always does when he’s about to get defensive.

“I figured it out,” he says.

“When?”

“What does it matter?”

Chase’s hands start shaking. “That long, then.”

“Hey, I tried to keep you out of this,” Foreman angrily. “Park went against me and paged you. Which, by the way, is insubordination,” he tells Park, who just pulls a face at his choice of words, then says:

“We have no idea what’s wrong with him, the symptoms are getting more severe by the minute, we need the best on this, so you.”

“No,” Chase says again as forcefully as he can manage. Then he points at Park and New Guy. “You two out. And if I find you anywhere near him you’re immediately fired.”

Park seems unimpressed but not about to challenge him openly just yet and New Guy seems positively terrified. Chase is about to storm out of the ER when he suddenly hears the familiar voice. 

“I’m dying, Chase,” House says and it’s only then Chase realises he hasn’t spoken all this time, which is an obvious sign something is extremely wrong with him.

Chase looks him in the eyes and something cruel wakes in his chest that makes him say in a cold voice: “No. You’re already dead.”

\---

For 17 hours he hides out in a hotel he can’t really afford but is sufficiently out of the usual routes of his team to maybe not occur to any of them.

Taub pages him five times. Foreman leaves angry voice messages. New Guy calls once but barely lets it ring, probably glad Chase didn’t pick up. He’s terrified of him even though Chase isn’t really trying to intimidate him. It makes him miss Adams, because in the past two years since she left he hasn’t had a decent person to replace her with.

In the end it’s Park that finds him, though she shouldn’t have been able to. She doesn’t knock just pushes a slip of paper under the door and leaves. Chase stares at it for seven minutes before finally picking it up.

_It’s not autoimmune either._

Chase curses under his breath and gets his coat.

\---

“None of you talk to him,” he says. Foreman is about to interject, but Chase cuts him off. “This is not up for debate. We know what he’s like – he’ll have you all running around in circles, playing mind games with you, even if it leads to him actually dying. All tests and treatments go through Park.”

He looks at her and she nods. She always knew best how to hold her own against House, she’s the only one Chase even remotely trusts with that task. Taub and New Guy are silent, and Foreman just sighs.

“Fine,” he says eventually. That one word conveys all of his doubts but he knows Chase enough to know there’s no use arguing now. Chase knows he undoubtedly will the first chance he gets. But for now he just leaves and lets Chase do what he does best.

\---

They almost kill House twice in one afternoon, then three days later think him cured for an hour before he goes into cardiac arrest. They work through the night, New Guy quietly useless and humiliated, Park confrontational and proactive, Taub quietly irritable. Adams has joined in on Skype two hours ago and despite her shitty internet connection wherever the fuck she’s saving the world this month, she still has good but ultimately unhelpful ideas. At least the bad connection spares her from a few of Chase’s constant sarcastic outbursts. 

Foreman keeps checking in for updates every hour and Chase suspects half of the ideas he throws into the mix are from Cameron texting him from Chicago while her kids are sleeping because apparently they’re all just as pathetic and under House’s influence as they were 15 years ago.

Just before 5am he throws one of the chairs against the glass wall, shattering it into a million pieces and storms out.

\---

Taub finds him in the hospital chapel and sits in the row behind him. For a moment Chase is certain he’s come to tell him they’ve lost House. But instead Taub says:

“I talked to the paramedic who took him to the first hospital. To find out his original symptoms before that initial treatment.”

Chase nods. “Good.”

“The others are already working on that,” Taub says. “But you know what she said? All the way to the hospital House kept arguing with her to be admitted here instead. Under your care.”

“So?” Chase asks, chest tight.

“Seems he trusted you, that’s all I’m saying. Not just the team but you specifically.”

Chase sighs, rubs his hands over his face tiredly.

“Go home, sleep, do whatever you do otherwise,” Taub says. “You wreck yourself because it’s him, but that shouldn’t matter. He’s just another patient and you’re the best at this.”

Chase nods. “Just another patient,” he says firmly. Then his eyes go wide. “Fuck.”

He jumps up and runs out of the chapel. 

\---

“Now that I’m not dying you grace me with your presence?” House asks him in a raspy, tired but sarcastic voice.

The room is dark, treatment already setting in if he’s awake enough to make jokes. Chase takes a few steps further inside.

“Why did you ask to be moved here?”

House shrugs. “You’re the only one I trust.”

“Bullshit” Chase says. “If you actually felt that way you’d never say it. Why are you really here?”

A slow, cruel grin spreads on House’s face. “You were never good at head games.”

Chase rolls his eyes. “You know I was. And stop deflecting. You wanted to come here because of us, to screw with us. I know you, you weren’t afraid of dying that day in the ER.” He stops talking. Suddenly wants to hit himself for being so blind. “Shit. You fucking knew what it was!”

House actually has the decency to look contrite for half a second. “I trusted you to figure it out,” he shrugs. 

Chase can’t breathe for a second out of cold white fury. “You _imbecile_. You haven’t changed a bit.”

“You have,” House says.

Chase shakes his head. He wants to hit him, strangle him with a pillow, _something_. But then he just says: “You know what, no. You don’t get to do this. You made a choice 7 years ago, pushed the game too far. You don’t get to come back from that.”

“Are you actually angry I’m alive?” House says with a smirk designed to piss him off. But for once Chase is resolutely trying not to take the bait. 

“I’m done,” he says. “With you. With your games. With your lies and god complex and-“

“I’m sorry.”

Chase stops talking. For a second he thinks he heard wrong. Then he just turns around and walks out.

\---

House is discharged three days later. When Chase goes to his room House s already packing the few things he arrived with into a worn backpack, making Chase wonder where he’s been these past few years.

“Do you have anywhere to go?”

House shrugs. “Apparently faking your death to avoid going to jail is kind of frowned upon. Wasn’t really expecting to stay a free man after this.” 

“Yeah you were,” Chase states the obvious. He’s not really sure how that mess can be fixed, but Foreman apparently has connections now, and for whatever reason is trying to pull some strings. Chase is trying to stay out of it mostly, it’s more than enough to worry about his own inability to cut himself loose. House is looking at him with a lopsided grin.

Chase sighs. “You knew about Foreman’s contacts. Knew he’d enjoy the power trip of you owing him your freedom. Just like you knew I would do this.”

He throws a copy of his apartment key on the bed. House looks at it, then at Chase.

“Hope,” he says. “At best.” He sounds almost honest, or as close to it as House ever gets. “What are you doing?” He asks then.

Chase shrugs. “Making a mistake. We’re both very good at those.”

“Mistakes and mysteries,” House makes a face. “Sounds like some cheap soap I’d enjoy.”

“Well you did just come back from death. Were in jail, rehab before that. You also kissed my ex-wife in the past.”

“Technically your ex-wife kissed me,” House says, amusement clear in his voice. “And don’t forget you murdering a dictator.”

It’s a low punch and they both know it but Chase just shrugs. “There’s that too.” House keeps watching him, something like interest showing in his eyes. Chase used to crave that look so badly it hurt, now it burns too much and he’s not sure what to do with it. So he says: “There’s a second bedroom. You can stay as long as I don’t get fed up with your idiocy.”

He expects a sarcastic comment but House just nods and stays silent for once.

“Yes,” Chase says. House looks at him. Chase knows it’s the worst idea ever but he goes on: “The answer is yes. I am still in love with you.”

House is still for a second, then says: “Figured as much.”

Chase nods, turns around but before walking out he says: “Try not to fuck it up,” and not even Chase himself can decide if he’s talking to himself or House. 


End file.
